


Cuddles

by theoddling



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Gender-neutral Reader, Multi, POV Second Person, Present Tense, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26042152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoddling/pseuds/theoddling
Summary: When you've had a bad day, your Hargreeves SO fixes it with cuddles.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves/Reader, Ben Hargreeves/Reader, Diego Hargreeves/Reader, Klaus Hargreeves/Reader, Luther Hargreeves/Reader, Vanya Hargreeves/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 168





	1. LUTHER

**Author's Note:**

> Just some short sappy, headcanon-y drabbles.

He had never been comfortable in his own skin, especially since the accident and the serum which changed his physiology. He was too big, too strong, too much. Clumsy and never quite sure of his own capabilities. Every day was spent with the lingering fear in the back of his mind that he would accidentally hurt someone he cared about.

But when you slip silently into his room, dropping face first onto the bed (or him if we’re being technical) with a sob, his arms wrap around you on instinct, as if the circle of them is enough to protect you from the world.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.

When you shake your head and refuse to answer, he tries a different angle.

“What do you need? How can I fix it?”

Because Luther is, underneath everything, a giver and a problem-solver, and he’ll do anything for the people he cares about, and you rank the highest of that list.

“Just you,” you murmur, snuggling closer to him. “Just hold me, please?”

He tenses for a moment before giving in, tucking your head up under his chin and holding you as tightly as he dared, smiling softly when you sigh contentedly.


	2. DIEGO

The late nights of being a vigilante’s significant other are hard, even if you would never admit it to him. Proper date nights were rare, you often had to go to bed without him, and almost always you worried that tonight would be the time he didn’t come home at all. Which is why, when you were awake (more often than he would like, and he felt guilty about disrupting your sleep patterns so completely) when he came home, you were seeking his touch as soon as he came through the door.

You snake your arms around his waist, resting your forehead against his or leaning to the side to lay your head on his shoulder. He responds by mirroring your action, hands tight around your middle and head resting on the top of yours.

If it’s a night when you are particularly tense, which he always picks up on, he’ll whisper how much he missed you as the pair of you walk in tandem toward the bed so that he can hold you properly. And properly usually means as tightly to him as possible, almost enough to be uncomfortable, legs tangled together, skin against skin, his fingers trailing patterns over your shoulder and lips pressing occasional kisses to your temples and cheeks.

“I love you,” he’ll say, waiting until you’re half-asleep as if afraid that if he says it for real you’ll vanish in a puff of smoke, nothing more than a dream.


	3. ALLISON

Most of the time, Allison is prim. Gossip magazines are so invested in her life, both as a famed actress and as a former child superhero. And she is so determined to keep them away from you, from the one private thing she has, that it often gets in the way of casual intimacy. For the first months you are together, you can’t even get her to hold your hand in public.

She still occasionally freezes, stiff and tense as if afraid of the contact when you lean into her side while the two of you are on the couch. Even though all you want is her arms around you and a quiet night watching a movie (that she does not star in) and forgetting both your troubles, you shift away again, turning to face her, taking her hands in yours.

“Allison,” you say softly. “It’s okay.”

“What?” her answer is startled, as if she doesn’t even realize she’s shutting you out. “What are you talking about Y/N?”

“It’s just us, love.” You smile, coaxing. “You can relax. You can trust me.”

She smiles back, and though it’s hesitant, it is still the most dazzling sight in the world.

“You’re right, sorry. Come here?” she raises an arm, making a perfect space for you to curl into, resting your head against her chest as she drapes it back over you, resting along your side.

“You know, my girlfriend makes the best pillow in the world,” you say sleepily, grinning as her laughter echoes through your living room.


	4. KLAUS

Once he has someone, you can guarantee that cuddling is almost always happening. Your space is his space, and he is determined to prove it. Usually the one to initiate physical contact anyway, he loves getting you to cuddle, loves the moment of calm and quiet and peace.

He’s also empathetic as hell and doesn’t even need a word or odd behavior to know when something is off with you. As soon as he senses it, activate cling-mode. Of course, if you’re the stubborn sort who doesn’t want to bother others with their problems (and who would) he’ll find a way to make it seem like he is the one that needs you, to let you pretend to be the strong one. He’ll make something up about a bad trip or ghosts being particularly chatty (things he has enough experience with for real to be able to bullshit well) and whine until you relent.

“Oh Klaus,” you’ll sigh, biting back your emotions in order to care for him, holding your arms open to him. “Come here.”

But no, a hug will not do here. He wraps his arms around your middle and tugs, guiding you to the nearest acceptable surface. Normally it would be the couch or a chair or the bed, but tonight he can feel the way you tremble almost imperceptibly, tonight the floor will do because you need to hold and be held and you need it now. He keeps you hugged close as he folds his long legs over you, sitting in your lap. His chin rests on your shoulder, face buried in your neck, and if he sneaks little kisses, neither of you are complaining. Eventually he releases his hold so that his hands can roam your body, reassuring you both that you are real and solid and there with him (also because the handsy boy just likes to be touching you all the time). He may even make an attempt at massaging your shoulders and limbs from your entwined position, whatever it takes to feel you sigh contentedly, to know that you’re okay again.


	5. BEN

You come home after a long, hard day, the door slamming violently enough to piss off the neighbors. Ben is sprawled on the couch reading, as usual. He doesn’t say anything, just lifts his book up in the air, away from his chest, making room for you to slip in between him and it, lying along him from shoulders to toes. Then he brings it back down, resting the base of the spine between your shoulder blades and keeps reading, arms framing you and gentle breathing coaxing you into a sense of calm.

When he reaches the end of a chapter, he’ll stop, setting the book aside to ask you about your day now that you’ve had time to relax. Only when he looks down, he’ll find you asleep with your face buried in his chest. He’ll smile down at you, heart swelling with how much he loves you, and with how much it means to him that you trust him enough to surrender so completely, knowing that he was there and you were safe, a feeling he never expected to have. It had taken him a long time to reach this point, where he didn’t question if you were secretly afraid of his abilities, where he would let you have contact with his stomach like this. And now, there is nowhere he’d rather be than lying there under you, even if you were drooling on his favorite sweatshirt.


	6. VANYA

She’s not a cuddler. And not just because she’s spent her entire life touch-starved and unsure of herself. It just feels awkward to her. When she’s upset, she needs space to breathe, and she doesn’t understand how someone could be the opposite.

But when you come home, upset, crying, her heart aches. She reaches out to you, to cradle your face and brush away the tears. Then she laces her fingers through yours and tugs you over to the couch where you sit, facing each other, knee bumping knee.

“Y/N, talk to me?” she’ll ask quietly, staring at your still linked hands.

Her gentle words are all it takes, and you break down, crying yes, but telling her everything. She’s angry at whoever or whatever upset you, but she knows that isn’t helpful, so she takes a deep breath and she listens and when you sag, overwhelmed and exhausted, she wraps her arms around your shoulders and pulls you into a hug, letting you cry on her, supporting you and holding you up literally. All the while she mutters soothing things about how much you mean to her and how no one else mattered but you and her.

It’s awkward and it’s stiff, but it’s heartfelt and she makes you feel better in her own way.


End file.
